


Catching the Snitch

by FanWriter



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-03
Updated: 2014-10-03
Packaged: 2018-02-19 18:12:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2397992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanWriter/pseuds/FanWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alternate fiction to when Harry fainted during the quidditch game in third year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catching the Snitch

**Author's Note:**

> From what I can tell, 'Saorsa' is Scottish Gaelic for 'freedom'. Seeing as I've always imagined Harry and Oliver having a brotherly relationship, I thought it would make sense for Harry to know the language - even though there's no mention of Oliver speaking it, and pretty much all of Scotland speaks English, from what I gather. Thanks for reading.

Harry leaned flat against his broom urging it to go faster. A bolt of lightning flashed down and struck the field below; thunder sounding so loud, it left his ears ringing. Fortunately, both were enough to distract Diggory, to where he lost sight of the snitch - but Harry's eyes were still locked on it. Focusing on the tiny flash of gold, he zoomed past Diggory, stretching out his hand. _Almost there. Almost. Come on._ Suddenly, Harry felt colder, and he could feel the air thicken. A piercing scream filled his ears, and he felt sick to his stomach, remembering the dementors on the train. To his left, he saw a dark mass enter into his peripheral vison ... only to see it was a dementor. He eyes were getting blury, and he started to feel faint. Keeping his eyes on the snitch, he dropped down behind it, level with the goal post. The dementor was following him, and the screaming was getting louder. Stretching out his arm again, he reached out and caught the snitch - fainting as soon as he enclosed the tiny ball in his fist.

'I think he's waking up,'' said a soft femine voice.

Harry recognized Katie's voice, and tried to open his eyes. He heard more voices around him.

''Shh, maybe we should let him sleep,'' said Alicia.

''I think it would be better if he was awake at the moment,'' piped Angelina.

Harry groggily sat up. ''What happed? Who won?'' he asked worriedly, the match suddenly coming to mind.

''You spend way to much time with Oliver,'' said Fred, shaking his head.

George laid a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder. ''Don't worry. You caught the snitch - Gryffindor won. You gave us a big scare there, though.''

''Yeah,'' Fred said. ''Fainted right after you caught it. George and I made it just in time to catch you before you hit the ground.''

''Dementors had no right to be there,'' Katie said angrily.

''You should've seen it Harry.'' George laughed. ''When Oliver saw what was happening, you know what he did? He full-body tackled the dementor to the ground. It was beautiful. Got in a few good punches, too, before Lupin got rid of the thing.''

''Speaking of Oliver -?'' started Alicia.

''Up in Dumbledore's office. He's helping him chew out Fudge,'' finished Angelina.

''Yeah, more like Oliver's telling Fudge off, and Dumbledore's making sure he doesn't do anything to get expelled.'' Fred cringed. ''Glad it's not us on the other side of that voice, eh George? George?''

''You alright, Harry?'' George asked, not paying attention to the coversation around him. His teammate seemed transfixed on something, and his face was an even paler shade than when he was brought in. Following his gaze, George's eye landed on the broken Nimbus in the corner of the room. ''Ahh, kid,'' he shook his head sympathetically.

''Saorsa,'' Harry whispered hoarsely.

''Could've died and he's more upset about his broom,'' Alicia said incredulously. ''Men.''

''Shhh. His broom actually did die,'' Angelina admonished.

''We're really sorry Harry.'' Katie took Harry's hand and held it gently.

''Just a broom. Dosen't matter,'' he said, mostly to himself. How could he even begin to describe the feeling he had just from getting two feet off the ground? How free it made him feel; how weightless? He sat in silence, just staring at the broken pieces. He gave a start when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Oliver looked down at his seeker. He'd been there for about an hour, but had decided to let Harry have time to think. It was getting late though, and he knew Madam Pomfrey would never let him hear the end of it if her patient skipped dinner. ''How are you, little brother?''

''Fine,'' Harry replied automatically. He looked around. ''Where is everyone?''

''I sent them off to bed when I got here. Said they were unable to get you out of your trance. The Twins, apparently, tried multiple time to get you to believe Professor Snape was at the door in a dress. They figured if you didn't responed to that, then it was best to leave you be. I, unfortunately, don't have that option.'' He leaned in and whispered seriously, ''You see, there's a woman out there - mad, she is - who even though her profession is healing people, will likely skin me alive if you don't eat this soup.''

Harry looked down at the steaming bowl in front of him and wrinkled his nose; clam chowder. ''Errgh,'' he groaned.

A smile started to peep through Oliver's facade at Harry's response. ''I know, I'm sorry, but she said if you don't eat it willingly, she'll come in and force it down. Now does that seem pleasent?''

Harry pick up the spoon and looked at it. ''No.'' He glanced around the room. ''I kinda wish there was a plant in here.''

Oliver laughed at that. ''Harry, that only works with liquids that the soil will absorb. Clam chowder's too thick.''

''Well, there you go. If even a plant can't absorb the nutrients of it, how can my stomach, I ask you?''

Oliver laughed again, grabbing Harry's hand which held the spoon and forced it down into the soup. ''Eat.'' He watch Harry force the soup down, making light conversation, glad to be able to distract him from his thoughts. He knew Harry would be getting a new broom, but he also knew nothing could replace the feeling of your first broom.


End file.
